She got a broad smile in return. ‘No, definitely not. There would be no space for a body to fit in there. Have you seen the piles of rubbish everywhere?’
Somewhat reassured, Alice decided to see how much information she could elicit. ‘So what’s the story, Vicky? Who is – was – the loony lady?’
‘Mary Browning. That’s her name. I’ve only been here since last summer, but my landlord told me all about her. He and his wife lived here for ten years before that and she had already been living here for a good while. When they moved in, she was almost normal, but she went downhill very fast.’
‘What does “almost normal” mean?’ Alice found she was enjoying the feel of the little baby in her arms.
‘Well, they said there were already piles of rubble and rocks in the garden, but the house was reasonably uncluttered. Over the next few years the garden turned into a disaster area. You haven’t seen it yet? You’ll see what I mean when you go round the back. Then it was the turn of the house. She started hoarding stuff until it got like it is today.’ She looked across at Alice. ‘To be honest, that’s why I managed to get this house at a decent rent. Nobody wanted to live next to her.’
‘So what’s causing the smell? Surely it’s more than just dirt?’
Vicky wrinkled her face and gave an embarrassed cough. ‘I’m afraid it’s much, much more than just dirt.’ Seeing that Alice still hadn’t twigged, she found herself obliged to spell it out. ‘The men from the council who came to take her away told me her bathroom was packed solid with junk. Nobody could get into it. So she had no toilet. She had to store everything in the house.’
‘You mean, the house is full of poo?’ Hearing the tone of her voice, the little boy stopped smiling and wriggled. Absentmindedly, Alice kissed him again and he settled down.
‘Last autumn she started dumping it in the back alley. Then she started pouring it onto Lyndhurst Avenue. That was when we called the Environmental Health people.’ She looked up in annoyance. ‘And you know what they said? If you or I were to go out in the street and pee in the middle of the road, we would be committing an offence.’
Alice shrugged her shoulders in agreement.
‘But, if you pee in your own home and then take it out and pour it on a public highway, that’s not illegal. It goes back to medieval times.’
‘Oh, dear Lord, so how did you get her out?’
‘Shortly after that, last winter, she started pouring the stuff,’ she was looking embarrassed now, ‘and I’m not just talking about pee, over the walls into the gardens along the back lane, mine included. The council put up a closed circuit camera and caught her in the act. Well, a number of acts to be honest.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not nice at all. Anyway, as a result, she was sectioned and removed.’
The little boy had closed his eyes by this time and was drifting off to sleep. Vicky nodded approvingly. ‘Sorry it’s an unpleasant shock for you. But for me it’s wonderful to find that the place is finally going to be cleaned up. And, the fact that the developer is a talented childminder is an added bonus. Danny will be very pleased to see you again. Have you got kids of your own?’
Alice shook her head. ‘No, not yet.’ No sooner had she said it than she found herself wondering why she had used the word “yet”. ‘I’ve been working in London since I left uni. This is the start of my new life.’ Her eyes flicked over in the direction of the dividing wall. ‘Although I didn’t really expect it to start in a house full of poo.
Alice found accommodation for the night in a charming little bed & breakfast, located in the village of Woodcombe, only a few miles out of town. It was called Drake Cottage. She received a warm welcome from the elderly lady owner. The room was spacious and clean, with a view out over the well-kept back garden to the fields beyond. A young black Labrador was wandering round outside, sniffing the bushes.
‘This is a lovely room, Mrs Tinker. Am I your only guest tonight?’
‘I’m glad you like it, my dear. I only have the one room now. I used to take up to four or five, but it’s too much work for me now. I’m just glad to have the company from time to time.’
‘Is that your dog out there?’ Alice loved the garden and the countryside views.
‘That’s Danny. He’s still a youngster, but he’s a very good dog. Do you have a dog yourself?’
Alice reflected for a moment that she had now been asked if she had a child and a pet, both in the same day. Did this mean that fate was somehow trying to get her to settle down? And a dog and a child with the same name? This reminded her of the other Danny, who would be moving into her London flat in two weeks’ time. Hopefully he wouldn’t pee on any plants. She smiled at the thought.
‘No, we had a cat when I was growing up, but I don’t know much about dogs.’
‘Well, if you want to come down for a cup of tea once you’ve settled in, I’ll introduce you to him.’
When Alice had opened her bag and hung a few things in the wardrobe, she went back down the stairs. Mrs Tinker was waiting at the kitchen door.
‘Come in here, my dear. It’s warmer by the Aga.’
The kitchen was indeed very cosy. The old range heated the room to a very comfortable temperature. As Alice walked in, the black dog climbed out of his wicker basket and trotted over to say hello. Alice hesitated, unused to dogs and a bit afraid of such a big animal. She stopped dead and pressed her hands nervously against her sides while the dog sniffed her.
Mrs Tinker saw her discomfort. ‘Danny, come back here and leave Alice alone.’ The dog turned away as he heard the call and returned to his mistress. ‘That’s a good boy. Now lie down in your basket and leave the lady alone.’ She stroked his head affectionately and then pointed towards the wicker basket. The dog did as instructed. Alice was impressed.
‘You’ve got him well-trained already.’
‘That’s Labs for you. Give them food and they’ll do anything you ask. I dare say I could get him to play the piano if I had a few spare joints of beef. Now, how do you take your tea?’
Mrs Tinker gave her a key to the front door. As she handed it over, she winked. ‘But if you should forget it, I never lock the back door. Well, apart from at night, of course.’
Alice looked up in surprise. ‘But aren’t you afraid of burglars?’
‘I’ve lived in this house for over sixty years without anything happening to me. Woodcombe’s a safe place to live. It’s not like London here, you know.’
They sat and chatted. Alice learned that the village pub, the King’s Arms, served good food. And it was only a few minutes’ walk from the house. She resolved to eat there that evening. The conversation turned to Alice’s reasons for being in Devon. Uncomfortably, she related the story of the house in Lyndhurst Avenue. Mrs Tinker was appalled.
‘I’ve never heard anything like it. How could somebody behave like that? You poor thing.’
‘It’s my own fault, Mrs Tinker. If I hadn’t been so stupid as to buy the place without viewing it, I wouldn’t be in this pickle now.’
‘How were you to know? Really!’ She couldn’t believe it. ‘And you were planning on moving in there yourself?’
‘Well, not immediately. I knew there would be a lot of work to be done first. The agents’ particulars made it clear that it needed complete refurbishment.’
Mrs Tinker was clearly relieved.